


Supernova

by dorkuspocus



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Eddie Kaspbrak Has ADHD, F/M, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Richie's Parents are Trying Their Best, Slow Burn, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, dw guys we get Right Into the Plot, there's.....gonna be a lot of angst, warnings might change in the future, why? because i said so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-10-28 19:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20784032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkuspocus/pseuds/dorkuspocus
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak always liked superheroes. A big part of him always wanted to meet one, and an even bigger part of him wanted to be one.He didn't think it'd end with him getting thrown to the nearest government facility, blow some stuff up and being forced into another goddamn country with strangers and someone he thought was dead, but, reality is often disappointing.OR, a story where a bunch of losers blow shit up and escape the country.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, hello hello! This is like, my first IT fic ever so please be patient with me if my writing sucks ass. The abilities the Losers have is based on my interpretations of them from the movies, and a fair amount of them have support powers rather than offense powers. Most of this will be Eddie-centric, I'll just be switching perspectives between groups for a while until they all meet up.
> 
> Also, I've never been to America, so my knowledge on American government shit is relatively low, sorry.
> 
> Enjoy the story ig.

Eddie was having a horrible day before the walls exploded.

It was about midday, if he had to have guessed, and most of the kids in his division were sat scattered in the facilities equivalent of a cafeteria. He had sat in the far corner, as per usual, staring down at the chunks of uneaten food and pushing it around the tray with a fork. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to eat. His thoughts, as they usually were, were elsewhere.

He was thinking- well, more accurately, he was _yearning_ for his old life. For his old friends, for his old town, for his dad. Maybe not his mother, not anymore, he was confident with how he would act if she saw him now. He knows what she would do- try to drag him back, smother him with affection, whisper into his ear to try and revert his mindset back to how he used to be.

He had played the moment in his head over and over. It wasn't like there was much else to do, really, they never did much with his division, all the real training went towards the kids of higher ranks, as they were the only ones who really needed it. Eddie was a support rank, all he could really do was think about what would happen. He would go back to Derry, he would go and find his best friend, and he would run into Sonia on the street. She would run up to him, drowning him in affectionate nicknames and grab his face, peppering him in kisses. She would go to grab his wrist, smiling so bad her face would hurt, and he would practically jump out of her grasp. The smile would fall from her face immediately, and she'd take a step closer. Eddie would take a step back. He could practically _hear_ her voice in his head, even after all this time. Taunting him. Beckoning him. Trying to drag him back. He would scream at her, and she would cry out for him, insisting that he _needs to come home to me, Eddiebear_, even as he runs out of earshot.

Really, he doesn't know what he would do if anything was off the script.

He remembered what she had done when she sent him off- he remembered the look on her face, what she said, how little she seemed to care that she was giving him up to do God knows what, with no way of being sure she would ever see him again.

It had been several months since his best friend had gone missing, and, like so many times before, he had stayed cooped up in his room without much to do. It was great for Sonia, he supposed, as she now had Eddie all to himself. On a sour note, it wasn't like he really left his room often, so she still didn't exactly see him very much. She had forced him to get out of the house, head down to the pharmacy and get his refills. Most of everything that had happened then was a blur.

He ran into a boy, he remembered. At the time, he had been the new kid in the town, as everyone so endearingly called him. He remembered the red liquid leaking from his stomach, staining his already red shirt, and Eddie remembered freaking out. In a spur of the moment, he followed the new kid into the alley he hid in, and reached out for the gaping wound decorating his skin. And suddenly, upon making contact, there was no wound at all. Just a large scar stretching over the boys front. The both of them had stared at each other for a moment, confused, before Eddie had run away, back to his house, not even bothering with his refills.

Four days had passed when people appeared at their door. They barged into Eddie's room, grabbing him by the arms and tearing him out of his bed. He had thrashed around in their grasp, screaming for his mother to help him. When they locked eyes, she had given him a blank smile.

_"You're sick, Eddiebear_," She insisted, her voice quiet and sweet. "_Their going to help you. You want to get better, don't you?_"

He did. He didn't want to be sick. He didn't want to die. He just wanted help, but if he knew _this_ would be what he got, he would've protested more. He would've screamed louder, he would've done _anything_. But he didn't.

Eddie jumped when the sound of a whistle tore him from his thoughts. He grabbed onto his tray, scraping his leftovers into the trash and leaving his now empty tray with the others. The rest of the kids in his division headed for the door single-file, each one stopping at the door for a moment. Eddie lifted his wrist when he reached the door, the man guarding it taking his hand and turning it so it was palm-up. He pressed his fingers to his wrist, and Eddie winced at the sudden electric shock that ran up his arm, the place the guard had tapped glowing a faint red, then blue, then back to the Omega sign engraved on his skin, the numbers **3****07** right below it.

When Eddie didn't move forward immediately, the guard placed a hand on his back, shoving him out the door. Eddie stumbled, using the wall to rebalance himself and continued onwards. He turned to look behind him, his eyes narrowing at the door, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.

_That's_ when chaos rained down.

Down the hall, an explosion sounded, the wall crumbling before his eyes. Eddie stared, watching as kids flooded out from the other side of what used to be the wall. All he could do was watch, far too confused with the sudden change in routine even as the alarms started sounding throughout the building.

He heard someone yell at him, and, upon whipping his head around, saw a guard storming towards him. Eddie stared up at them, his eyes wide, feet practically fused with the ground. The only movement he managed to do was gently shaking his head the closer the guard got, and blinked when they suddenly disappeared. A girl appeared in front of him, grabbing his wrists and dragging him off to the side. She pulled him behind a wall as the guards began to shoot at them, staring at him, utterly baffled. "What are you _doing_?! Do you _want_ to die in here, or do you want to go home?"

Eddie didn't respond, instead yanking his hands back and out of her grasp. She scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning around. "Fine. Suit yourself, don't blame me when your parents are forced to put you in the ground themselves." And with that, she disappeared.

By sheer luck, the floor exploded near Eddie, giving him an effective way to get to the lower floors. It took him a moment to get over the mild shock, but he was quick to run for the new hole in the ground, jumping down and bobbing down upon landing. He looked around at everyone else running through the halls, waves of guards not too far behind each group of kids.

Eddie ran down the halls, having trouble finding out where he was. Every room looked the same, he learned, so he could only assume where he was, and it was nowhere near where he needed to be. He ducked around a corner when he heard footsteps behind him, pressing his back against the wall. His breaths were heaved and jagged, and he carded a hand through his hair, pushing loose strands back out of his face.

When another explosion occurred near Eddie, this one wasn't in his favour, as it was the wall right behind him. He flew forwards, rolling on the ground for a moment and grunting quietly, hands pressed against the ground, his limbs trembling. He lifted his head, his eyes widening when he saw a guard spot him, running down the hall in his direction. His moves grew more frantic, and he scrambled to try to rise to his feet. In his borderline hysterical movements, all he ended up doing was falling onto his back, clambering as far from the approaching guard as fast as he could.

It wasn't an explosion that helped this time. Another kid jumped on the guards back, their arms wrapping around the guards neck, leaning their body backwards and causing the guard to stumble back, their nails digging into the child's bare arms.

Before Eddie had a chance to actually _stand up_, someone grabbed onto his arms, pulling him through a door and into a smaller, darker room. He opened his mouth to say something when they closed the door, only to have them slap their hand over his mouth. He moved around in the little space he had, trying to will himself to grow mad at whoever this person was. Weirdly enough, he only started feeling more... tired, if anything. Eventually, the person moved their hand away, and Eddie leaned back on the wall behind him, gaze lifting, his eyes narrowed as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

It took a second, but the strangers _face_ isn't what stole the air from Eddie's lungs. What he noticed first was the coke bottle glasses the boy sported. Then he managed to process his eyes, shifting from a vivid brown, to hazel, to gold, and back to brown- still changing, not unlike a kaleidoscope. Then it was the stern frown drawn over the boys face. The expression almost made Eddie doubt who this was- he had only seen him frowning once in the time he knew him, any other time he wore a bright, cheeky grin. Though, he supposed being here over several months would do that to someone.

His mouth dried the longer he stared up at him, and he lightly slapped his own face, taking a step back.

Richie smiled at him, but not the same mischievous, jaunty smile he used to throw his way back in Derry. It was small, almost cold, not quite reaching his eyes as he spoke. "Hey, Eddie."

* * *

Stan almost gave himself a heart attack when it happened.

At the time, he and Beverly had been just outside the training room. Their powers hadn't been deactivated by the guards upon leaving the room, and he had to remind himself to thank Betty for providing them with enough of a distraction to actually _do _that.

He had never used his powers out of training- well, there was one time, but he didn't necessarily enjoy thinking about that, so he didn't count it- and _now_ he was using his powers to blow up the facility that had trapped them all there for so long. Beverly had provided enough comfort to prevent Stan from self-destructing, and she made sure to pull him off to the side in an empty room.

Stan opened his palms, a green gas emitting from them. The two watched as the gas spread throughout the lower half of the room, and they made for the door. Beverly turned around to face the room, leaning down and blowing gently, a string of fire emitting from her lips and setting the gas ablaze. She slammed the door shut, launching her body to Stan as she shoved him back, the room exploding.

The next few minutes were relatively eventful. They repeated this process a multitude of times, doing what they could to rid of every wall in sight, freeing anyone they could- or, at the very least, trying to free them. Much to Stan's dismay, they couldn't manage to help every single kid in this building. If the **366** on his wrist was any sign, then there was hundreds of kids in this facility, and they didn't have that much time. 

Beverly and Stan were running, he knew that much. He didn't know where they were going, or how long it would take for them to get out, but he knew that they _would_ make it. Or, at the very least, he hoped they would make it. The both of them were ducking around corners and jumping through holes they would make in the ground, blindly running around the building with no definitive destination other than _Out_. It was only a little while before Stan skidded to a stop, having dropped into a room that looked far too familiar. He looked around, his brows furrowing, and Bev poked her head out from the floor above, peering down the hole at Stan. "Are you okay? Is someone there?"

Stan looked up at her, frown still drawn over his face. "I- no, it's okay, I just... Does this look familiar to you?"

Beverly dropped down, bobbed down next to him. She looked around, scoffing, her eyes narrowed. "Yeah. It looks like the Beta Training grounds." She told him, and her head tilted towards Stan, brow raised. "You're an Omega, right?"

"Delta." He corrected, and she straightened her posture. The expression she wore was maybe just a little more than mildly baffled, her hands moving to rest on her hips. "Wait, when did that happen? When I met you you were an Omega!" She cried, and Stan laughed. He turned on his heels, taking a few steps towards the door. "It happened a few weeks ago. We were in training, I did some stuff, and I guess the guards learned that I wasn't necessarily restricted to just support roles." He said, waving a hand dismissively.

Beverly rushed to his side, arm outstretched, eyes wide. "That's a big thing! You know how many people actually get transferred? What was it like?" She asked, practically drowning him in questions. Stan had managed to drown her out, running a hand along the door. He exhaled, a green gas producing from his palm. He blew it against the door, taking a step back and nodding his head in the gases direction, eyes on Beverly. She rolled her eyes, stopping with the questions and rubbing her hands together and facing her palms towards the gas. Sparks of fire shot out, and, unsurprisingly, an explosion momentarily blinded them. It was smaller than the others, but no less loud.

When the smoke cleared, the both of them turned to look back at the door. No damage had been made.

Beverly was the first to speak. "Guess we blew ourselves into a corner." She sighed, and Stan cringed, shaking his head gently. "_Please_ never say that again." He begged, and Beverly responded only with a smile. She turned around, short curls clinging to her face as she headed back over to the hole above them.

She came to a stop not too soon after though, her body twisting to look back at Stan. She raised a finger to her lips, shushing him, and gestured for him to come over. Stan obliged, jogging over to his friend, eyeing her with narrow eyes. She made a few wild gestures, waving her arms a little frantically. When her actions were only met with a vaguely perturbed expression, she rolled her eyes, taking a step. "Give me a boost." She said, barking it out as more of an order instead of a request. Stan nodded, bobbing down.

Beverly climbed onto his back, grabbing onto the edge of the crumbling floor- or, ceiling, from where Stan was, she supposed. She forced herself up higher, wobbly feet placed on Stans shoulders. She felt him swaying under her weight, and she peeked over the edge, eyes grazing over the seemingly empty halls.

She ducked down when she heard fast, heavy footsteps growing louder and louder. Stan tapped on her ankles, and she looked down at him. He shot her a look, and she frowned at him, mouthing _hold on_. She shifted her body, elbows resting on the floor as she hoisted herself up. She took a moment to scout the area, searching to see if whoever had been making the footsteps earlier was still anywhere nearby, before leaning down and grabbing Stan by the arms, shifting and digging her feet into the ground, managing to pull him up.

Stan grunted, crossing his legs and holding his head in his hands, sputtering when the smell of gas invaded his nostrils. Beverly pat his shoulder, rising to her feet and holding her hand out. Stan was quick to grab it, huffing, stumbling a bit as she hoisted him to his feet. "What were you doing before?"

"I heard someone." She insisted. Stan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I _still_ hear people, it's not like we were very subtle."

Beverly stuck her tongue out at him, turning again and nearing the corner, poking her head around to see if anyone was still there. Unfortunately for them, someone was. _Fortunately_ for them, it was only another kid.

"_Hey_," She called out hastily, walking out and heading over, keeping a hand on the wall. She turned to look behind her, Stan a good distance behind her, but still following close enough. Her heard whirled around again to face the other kid, who was staring at her, wide-eyed.

His eyes were... pretty unsettling, to say the least. His pupils were constantly dilating and contracting, they almost seemed to be taking up his entire eye occasionally. He had semi-long brown hair, or at least, long for a boy, falling over his eyes with every slight movement. Beverly raised her hands in an attempt to look defenseless, extending her arm out towards him, going as slow as she could. "Are you hurt? I'm-"

Before she could even finish her sentence, a sudden beam of light shot at her, aimed for her head. She jumped to the side, crashing her body against the wall. The boy had begun to scramble to his feet, but he never had the chance. Stan had run up behind him, slapping a hand over his mouth. The boy thrashed in his arms, and Beverly was quick to run over, grabbing the boys arms and holding them at his sides.

It took a few minutes before the boys body fell limp, and Stan sighed, his grab on the boy loosening. Beverly and Stan watched his body drop to the ground, and Stan perched his hands on his hips. "I wish that took as long as it did in the movies." He mumbled, and Beverly couldn't help but laugh. "Don't we all."

When Beverly noticed the strained look Stan was giving the boy, she frowned at him. "Stan, we can't bring him." She said. Stan looked at her again, his arm extended as he gestured rather dramatically to the body. "We can't just leave him here! Who knows how long he'll be knocked out!"

"He almost _killed_ me!" Beverly argued.

"He was _scared_!"

"We can't drag an unconscious body with us, we'll be slowed down!"

"Well, it's not like we have a time limit for escape."

"_What_?"

Stan held his hands up, taking a step closer to the boy. Beverly mirrored his action. Stan frowned at her, bringing his foot back. "We can hide with him, just until he wakes up and recovers. It's not like we're gonna be able to get out in under thirty minutes, this place is way too big. I was expecting it to take a week at most."

Beverly folded her arms over her chest, raising a brow pointedly. Stan held his ground, hands curled into tight fists at his sides. The two of them just.. stood there for a while, before Beverly's stern demeanour crumbled. She sighed when a bright grin broke over Stan's face, and she waved a hand weakly in the boy's direction. "Check his wrist, first. Then we'll see."

Stan hopped over to the boy, rolling his onto his back and grabbing onto his wrist. Stans breath hitched, and Beverly stared at him, head tilted. "What is it?"

Stan looked back at the boy, a somewhat pitiful frown stretched over his face. Even unconscious, the boys brows were furrowed, expression seeming like more of a frown than simply a resting face, "**013**, Alpha class."

"_Thirteen_?" Beverly whistled, long and drawn out. She flicked her curls out of her face, and Stan gazed up at her, pouting. It didn't take long for her to give in, this time, and she rolled her eyes. "Alright fine. Let's find a room to crash in for the next few hours, then when he's good we're heading right back out, got that?"

Stan went to hook his arms under the boy, holding him bridal style as he lifted him off of the ground. Beverly watched, cackling when she noticed Stan's knees already buckling. She pat his back, holding her arms out. "I can carry him." She insisted. Stan opened his mouth to protest, and Beverly cut him off to repeat herself. "_I _can carry him." She hissed. Stan didn't look all that pleased, but didn't argue, plopping the boy in her arms. She stared at him for a moment, blowing a few strands of his hair from his face. She lifted her head, a smile creeping over her lips. "Alright, Stan the Man, lead the way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eddie remembers and Bill has trust issues.

Eddie remembered an _ice cream truck._

_Him and Richie had been riding down the street on their bikes when they saw it. Richie was the first to react. He cut off Eddie in his path, riding over to the sidewalk and practically launched himself off of his bike, letting it crash in the grass. Eddie had skidded to the side to slow himself down when Richie suddenly passed in front of him, following nonetheless._

_Eddie had barely even gotten off of his bike when Richie ran back over to him, holding his arm out towards Eddie. He had a grin stretched ear-to-ear over his face, eyes half-lidded. "Plain vanilla for a plain guy."_

_"You literally got the same flavour as me, asshole." He huffed, snatching the ice cream from Richie's hand. Richie only laughed in response, turning and starting to walk off. Eddie blinked, brows furrowing. "Are you not taking your bike?" He asked, and Richie turned around, waddling backwards down the path, gesturing for Eddie to follow. "Come on, we'll come back for them!"_

_Eddie, smart as ever, didn't bother arguing before he hurried to catch up with Richie. "I swear to God, Richie, if we come back and our bikes are gone, I'm going to smack you upside the head." He hissed. Richie squinted at Eddie, his eyes running up and down Eddie's body. He laughed, rolling his eyes. "You sure you can reach that high, Eds?"_

_"Don't call me Eds." He barked out, but didn't respond any more or less than that. Richie tossed aside his soon empty ice cream cone, leaning towards Eddie to lick his ice cream. Eddie slapped his hand on Richie's face and pushed him back, holding his ice cream out of Richie's reach. "Gross, don't come near me, you're fucking filthy." Eddie scoffed, a choked noise bubbling in the back of his throat as he gestured to Richie's face, smothered with his devastated ice cream._

_Richie cackled, pushing Eddie's hand away and wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Come on, let's go somewhere!" He insisted. Grabbing onto Eddie's wrist, he led him off to the side, ignoring Eddie's sudden protests._

_It was a while before they even reached their destination, and Eddie had begun doubting Richie ten minutes prior. They had been plodding through the woods for a few minutes, leaves crunching beneath their sneakers, Richie tripping over roots and twigs and sending Eddie down to the ground with him. Eddie finally opened his mouth to question his friend, when he noticed the trees beginning to clear out ahead of them. He noticed the cliff second._

_Eddie yanked his wrist from Richie's hold, taking a step away from him. "Holy _shit_, you're gonna shove me off the cliff, aren't you?" Eddie sputtered, bringing his hand to his chest. "I knew it. Ma always said you were bad news, but I never listened, and here I am, about to die at the hands of Derry's own Bucky Beaver-" He went on. He let out a soft grunt when something hit his stomach, and looked down at Richies shoe, now lying at his feet. Eddie kicked it off to the side, folding his arms over his chest and eyeing Richie, who stood with his hands on his hips. "Shut up and get over here before I start considering throwing you off the edge."_

_"You wouldn't dare."_

_Richie rolled his eyes, and Eddie grinned at the lack of denial towards his statement. Richie turned and neared the edge, plopping down and swaying his legs over the edge. "Come on over, it's perfectly safe!"_

_Eddie scoffed, eyes widening. "_Safe_?! You are sitting on the edge of a cliff, what about that is safe? My mom will have a seizure if she hears I've been anywhere near this place." He insisted. Richie laid down on his back, his eyes wide and comical beneath his ridiculous glasses, grin not dissimilar to that of a rubberhose animation character. "Then just don't tell her. What she doesn't know can't hurt her."_

_"I can't _lie _to my own mother, Rich." "You won't be lying, you just won't have to tell her. It's not like she's gonna ask you if you climbed a cliff today." "What if she asks me what I did today?" "Tell her you were just having a swell time with your best friend, Richie! No harm, no foul."_

_A brief silence fell between them before Eddie began mumbling to himself. "This is ridiculous. I shouldn't be here, I don't have to be here. If I had half a mind, I would just turn around and retreat to the safety of my house instead of risking the possibility of slipping and rolling down a rocky cliff that could definitely kill me." Of course, he said all of this whilst wading through a pool of leaves, closing the distance between him and Richie, flumping down a safe distance from the edge, but probably closer than he should be._

_Richie beamed at him, slapping him on the back. "There ya go, Eds! I knew you could do it!" He cried, and Eddie flinched, frantically slapping Richies hand away. "Shut up, don't touch me! Do you have any idea how easy it would be for you to just push me off? This is stupid, we shouldn't be here, why did I agree to this? I should go, I-" "Eddie." Richie cut him off, sitting upright. "You haven't even asked why I brought you here."_

_Eddie stared at him for a moment, brows furrowing. "Do I even want to know?"_

_Richie looked away, and if Eddie didn't know any better, he would've even thought Richie almost looked shy. "Just ask the question." He demanded, and Eddie lifted his hands in defense. "Alright, alright. Why are we here, Richie?"_

_Richie looked down at his bare wrist, tapping it as if he were checking the time, lifting his head and pointing forwards. Eddie followed his gaze, his breath suddenly finding a way to leave his lungs. He only just ended up noticing Derry township, right there below them. It looked so... small, from this distance. It was such a weird thought. To the children in the town, him included, the town was their whole world. Looking at it from here... It almost made him claustrophobic. Even still, it was a nice view. He could see kids biking around the town, and panicked adults chasing their pets down the street. There weren't many cars in the streets today, as per usual, so there was a fair amount of toddlers running across streets and people walking in the middle of the road._

_"It has a better view at night." Richie said, forcing Eddie from his thoughts and back into reality. Eddie's head whipped around to look at his friend, whose gaze was anywhere but on Eddie, his cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink. Eddie couldn't help but smile, raising an eyebrow. "Are you inviting me to join you here at night, Tozier? How scandalous, I promised your ma I would meet her tonight, but I suppose I can change our plans-" "Eds, shut up." "Don't call me Eds." "Don't make jokes about my mom."_

_At this, Eddie gasped rather dramatically, leaning away from Richie. "Richie Tozier? Asking to stop with your mom jokes? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?"_

_Richie groaned, and Eddie settled for a small smile, resting his hands in his lap. "I'm kidding, relax." He snickered, and Eddie rubbed the back of his neck. "I... gotta go, but I'll meet you here later?" He said, wincing when it came out as more of a question._

_Richie shot him a pair of finger guns in response, and Eddie rose to his feet. "See you then, Spaghetti man."_

"Richie-" Eddie choked out, bringing a hand to cover his mouth when his voice came out trembling. He lifted a hand, slowly, watching as Richie's eyes followed his hand warily, like he was waiting for any sudden movements.

When Eddie's hand brushed against Richie's cheek, both of them had ended up flinching away from each other. Eddie waved his hand as if it was burnt, staring up at Richie with wide eyes. "Holy _shit_."

Richie was still frowning, back pressed against the opposite wall to put as much space between them as he could, which wasn't much in the cramped closet. Eddie was just a bit too wrapped up in his own astonishment to take note of Richie's otherwise obvious discomfort. "Eddie-" He tried, being very quickly cut off by Eddie. "Rich, oh my god, I thought you were dead! Have you been here the whole time? Are you okay-? How have I not seen you around, I-" "_Eddie_!"

Eddie fell silent, but his rapid heartbeat didn't slow down in the slightest. "Sorry, sorry, it's just... It's been so _long_, what happened to you?" He asked.

In response to his question, Richie blinked, his eyes narrowed. Eddie had only just noticed Richie's glasses. They were different than the ones from his memory, smaller and more practical, no longer making his eyes appear three times their size. Eddie managed to convince himself he wasn't disappointed that his _glasses_ were different, of all things. Richie tilted his head, still pressing himself against the wall. "You don't remember?"

Eddie stared at him, dumbfounded. "Don't remember what?" He asked. Richie paused for a moment, then scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Why am I not surprised? Give me your wrist." He ordered. Before Eddie could question him, Richie grabbed onto his hand and brought it to his face.

He looked up at Eddie again, somewhat of an amused gleam sparking in his eyes. "You're an Omega?" He cackled, and Eddie was quick to pull his arm back. "I swear, if you say something about not being surprised, I'm going to smack you upside the head."

Richie let Eddie's wrist slide from his grasp, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, calm down. What are you, a buffer? A pacifier?" He asked. Eddie pressed his lips together into a thin line, his eyes flickering back down to the ground. "I'm a healer." He mumbled, cringing when Richie laughed. "Jesus, of course you're a _healer_ of all things. Oh, your mom must've been so happy to hear that." He snickered, quieting down his laughter when Eddie hissed. "Beep beep, Richie."

Richie let out a somewhat heaved exhale, shaking his head gently. "Yeah, definitely didn't miss that." He mumbled. He reached over to the doorknob again, pushing it slightly ajar and looking into the hallway through narrowed eyes. He looked back at Eddie, a hand on his hip, his expression looking far too strained to match the carefree, over dramatic ADHD kid that Eddie remembered. "Guess we're stuck together for a while, huh?"

"Great, it'll be like nothing changed." Eddie said, faux deride lacing his tone. When he didn't hear Richie respond, he looked over at the taller boy, surprised to see Richie glaring at him, any delight that may have been in his eyes before having completely faded by now. Eddie let his mind wander when Richie looked out the door again, rubbing the back of his wrist in a nervous tic.

"Rich, what you said earlier-" He started. "What do I not remember?" He asked him.

Instead of answering, Richie settled for ignoring the question, and before Eddie could demand an answer, Richie kicked the door open. He walked out, peeking around the door and staring down at the guard he had it with the door, now unconscious on the ground. Without bothering to look back at Eddie, he gestured for him to follow, a wry smile engraved over his face, looking just as forced as it had before. "Alright, let's go. We have a facility to escape."

* * *

"How long has it been?" Beverly asked, banging the back of her head on the wall. Stan sighed, his eyes locked on the unconscious boy sprawled out on the ground. "Twenty-five minutes."

"How long does it take to wake up from chloroform?"

"Twenty minutes to two hours."

"Two hours?!" Beverly groaned, sliding down the wall and curling up into a small ball on the ground. Stan rolled his eyes, not without affection, biting back the urge to laugh. "Calm down, I doubt it'll actually take that long. Deviants- especially Alphas- are built way differently to regular humans, it shouldn't take much longer." He insisted.

As if on cue, the boy suddenly shot upright, taking in a deep breath. Stan and Beverly turned to look at him, and Stan looked back at her, eyebrows raised. "See? Right on schedule." He hummed, satisfied. He took a step closer to the boy, and he whipped his head in Stan's direction, his mouth opening, probably to yell at him. Instead, he ended up vomiting, twisting his body around so he threw up on the ground rather than his lap.

Stan frowned, nearing the boy and resting a hand on his back, patting him gently. The boy didn't lash out and toss a beam of light his way, which he took as a win. Though, whether it was because he was learning to trust him or because he was distracted at the moment, he didn't know. It was probably more obvious than he led himself to believe.

The boy hunched over, sputtering, and Stan cleared his throat, rubbing circles into the boys back, hoping to be comforting. Beverly neared the two soon after, cringing as she looked down at the new puddle of vomit on the ground. "Is he okay?"

"Uh- yeah, it'll take a while for him to recover," Stan informed her, flinching when the boy curled up again. "He should have nausea, severe shivering and more vomiting for a few more minutes, and an hour-lasting headache." He said, shuffling away when the boy's head snapped around to look at Stan. "_H-Hour-lasting_?! Why the h-_hhh_-_hell_ did you eve-ehhn-" He started, hands flying to cover his mouth.

The boy groaned, lying on the ground and rolling onto his side, curled up into a small ball. Stan blinked, sharing a look with Beverly before speaking. "Uh- sorry."

"_Please_ shut up."

"Shutting up."

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Stan whipped his head around again, staring up at Beverly as she gestured for him to follow. She led him to the other side of the room, much to Stan's dismay, her hands perched firmly on her hips. "Stan, we need to hurry up, we can't stay here much longer, hour-lasting headache or not." She advised. Stan looked back over to the boy, curled up on the floor, shivering violently. He looked back at Beverly, frown deepening. "We can't just leave him."

"We won't be _leaving_ him, exactly, just..." She trailed off. The two stood in silence, Beverly rubbing the back of her neck before sighing. "Okay, yeah, we'll be leaving him. But it's the only logical option!" She insisted, arms flailing around dramatically. Stan stood his ground, crossing his arms. "It's about _morality_, Bev."

"What does _morality_ have anything to do with this?" She demanded. Stan winced, eyes lowering to the flames flickering at her fingertips. Whether she knew it or not, Beverly was pretty intimidating when she was determined. Unfortunately for her, he was feeling persistent. "I only agreed to this so we could free as many people as possible, not just us. Even if something happens to me, I'm going to help _at least_ one person. Whether it's a guy who tried to kill us or a long lost best friend, I'm saving _someone_."

Beverly stared at him for a moment, eyebrows raised. She hummed, demeanour faltering. "That's... pretty selfless of you, Stanley."

"I'm not selfless, I just have no sense of self-preservation."

At that, Beverly snorted, and rolled her eyes, smile flickering easily over her face. "Alright, whatever. Let's get to know our guy."

Stan grinned at her, spinning on his heels and practically hopping back over to the boy. He stared up at Stan, wiping at his mouth, his brows furrowed. Stan sat down next to the boy, sparing the boy a glance and taking in a breath. He held a hand out with a fair share of hesitation, trying for a smile. "Hey- hi. I'm Stan, that's Beverly." He introduced, flicking his hand in Beverly's direction. The boy looked between Bev and Stan, then down to his hand. Stan didn't need to be observant to notice the boy inspecting his wrist, symbols shifting between Omega and Delta.

The boy took his hand, nose twitching, his mouth slightly open. He looked like he was struggling to say something, expression growing slowly agitated. "I-I-I'm- B-" He managed, stammering over the b. Stan blinked, waiting quietly, trying to appear patient. His attempts were in vain, as the boy only continued to get annoyed at his lack of ability to speak. "I-I'm f-_fffu-_uhcking B-Bill."

"Hey there, Bill." Beverly chuckled, smile suddenly looking misplaced over her face. Bill blinked at her, his eyes suddenly widening when he finally recognized her as the girl he almost killed with a beam of light. He grabbed at the hem of his own shirt, shuffling back. "Sh- shhh..it, I-" He started, before slamming his lips shut, not seeming anxious to finish his sentence this time.

Stan turned to look at Beverly, eyes narrowed. He mouthed a quick _be nice_, and Beverly sighed, walking over and bobbing down in front of Bill so they didn't have to strain their necks to make eye contact. "You feeling alright, Bill?" She asked. "We all kinda got places to be."

Stan grunted, lightly smacking Beverly's knee. She looked at him, eyes wide, like '_what? That's nice!_'. Stan sighed in response, and smiled at Bill. "Sorry, but.. it's kinda true, we'd like to ditch this place as soon as possible."

"I-I d-d-don't need you to t-ta-_taay-_ke care of m-me." Bill hissed, his teeth baring. Just then, he turned around, hunching over to throw up again. Beverly grinned- not necessarily in a teasing way, but her gentle laughter probably didn't do much to dissuade that notion. "Yeah, well, for now you do. Come on, it'll get Stan off my back." She persisted, holding her hand out to Bill.

It took a second, but Bill nodded, clasping his hand in Beverly's. She hoisted him up onto his feet, and Bill was quick to take a step back, shaking himself out of her grasp. Stan rose up soon after, and Beverly tilted her head, eyebrow raised. "So, what exactly are the limits to your powers? Can you blow holes in walls?"

Bill lifted his hand, staring down at his palm. He looked back up at them, then at the wall. He closed his hand into a tight fist, and extended his arm, a bright glow emitting from his hand when a sudden beam of light shot forwards. Stan covered his head when rubble and iron flew, coughing quietly and waving his hand, blowing smoke from his face. When he looked back, the wall was no more, and Bill didn't wait before heading out. "Guess I can blow holes in walls." He hummed, sounding far too nonplussed to make Stanley comfortable, and he looked back at the two with one foot through the gaping cavity he had just created in the building. "Come on, then."

"Huh." Stan whistled, mildly impressed. Beverly looked at him, eyes half-lidded. "What is it? Surprised?"

"No, no, just..." He trailed off, clearing his throat as he moved to follow Bill. "He didn't stutter once saying that."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where everyone gets out, Stan, Bill and Bev find a little someone and Richie and Eddie have some minor casualties.

Richie was bobbed down in the hallway, his head poking around the corner, eyes narrowed as he eyed two guards at the end of the hall. He let out a huff, slumping down and lightly banging the back of his head against the wall behind him, looking back over at Eddie. Eddie was bobbed down next to him, a hand pressed against the ground next to his foot, eyes wide as he gazed up at Richie. Upon realising Richie knew he was staring, he tore his eyes away, cheeks dusted a soft red. He tried for a smile, giving a light shrug. "I don't suppose your power has something to do with explosions, does it?"

Richie barked out a laugh, sudden and loud enough to get Eddie to flinch. Richie slapped a hand over his mouth, twisting his body to peek around the corner again. He looked back at Eddie soon enough, eyebrow raised. "Nah, 'm not that flashy. No doubt I'll be more useful in this situation than you, though." He teased, grin having shifted to more of a sneer as he tapped Eddie's nose. "Just sit here and look pretty, Eds."

Richie stood up, carding both hands through his hair in an attempt to flatten it down, in vain of course. He pat down his clothes before stepping out into the open, ignoring Eddie as he demanded what Richie was doing, even trying to grab at Richie's hand to pull him back. Unfortunately, Richie was well out of reach by then, walking up to the two guards.

He cleared his throat, watching as the guards whirled around, quick to run up to him. Richie held his hands up in surrender, staying still when they yelled at him not to move. He waved his hands lightly, chuckling under his breath. "Alright, alright. Relax, fellas, there's no need for the guns."

The two guards, strangely enough, started to slow down, coming to a halt not too far away from Richie. Eddie watched, mystified by Richie's apparent sangfroid in the situation, seeming almost... entertained, as he spoke. "There we go." He hummed, lowering his hands back to his sides. One of the guards shook his head, straightening his posture, but still didn't even try to raise his gun. "Your power and class. What are they?"

"Wow, not even my name? How rude." He laughed. When the guards didn't respond, Richie tilted his head, hand moving subconsciously to cover the symbol on his wrist, rubbing his thumb over it gently. "Well, alright then. Richie Tozier, pathokinesis, Delta class. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sirs." He introduced, even doing a little bow, following it up with a mock salute.

The guard that spoke before wore a clear scowl over his face, taking a few steps closer to Richie. "Alright, come on, get back in your cell." He snarled, reaching a hand out, possibly to grab onto his wrist. Before he could, however, Richie's hand shot out first. He yanked the guard closer just as the other guard lifted his gun, and Eddie didn't fail to notice Richie's lack of a reaction when a gunshot echoed in the halls, the guards body falling limply to the ground.

Eddie had a much different reaction when a second gunshot sounded out, jumping out from the corner but not going to move any more than that, yelling out a quick and panicked "Richie!" The guard turned to look around, and moved so his gun was aimed at Eddie rather than Richie. Eddie blinked, his eyes wide as he stared over at the guard, expression straining as he prepared himself for some kind of sudden pain. Instead, he ended up watching as the guard suddenly dropped to the ground, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

Eddie blinked, understandably confused. Richie snapped his fingers in front of Eddie's face, and the smaller boy jumped, brows furrowed. Looking up at Richie, he found his blank stare almost... unsettling, considering the circumstances. Richie's words definitely did not match the emotion- or lack thereof- engulfing his eyes. "You okay?" He asked him, quietly, hyper aware of Eddie's demeanour, staring at Eddie as he got as close to curling into himself as he could when standing upright. Eddie cleared his throat, nodding quietly, his eyes lowering.

Understandably, his attention was very quickly drawn to the red liquid pouring down his arm, the colours a stark difference to Richie's plain white shirt. He reached out to grab Richie's arm, pulling him closer and running his eyes over the new wound. "_Shit_, are _you_ okay? Come on, let me-"

Before he could finish, Richie yanked his arm back, covering the bullet wound with his own hand, lips drawn into a grimace. "Hey now, easy tiger. What happens to the bullet if you just heal it up?" He asked. At that, Eddie squinted, eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_..." He paused, huffing out a sigh. "Does it just... heal over the bullet? Does it pop out? I don't know how else to do you this, but I don't want a chunk of polished metal flowing around in my blood for the rest of my life, 'specially not if it's from _here_." He said brusquely. Eddie stared at Richie for a moment, dumbfounded, before slapping his forearm. "Richie, there is a _bullet_ in your arm, don't be difficult _now_ of all times!"

"I'm not being difficult!" Richie argued, his grasp tightening over the wound, getting him to wince. "It's a perfectly reasonable thing to worry about." He stood his ground, even as Eddie grabbed onto Richie's hand, tearing it from his arm. All that surprised Richie was the lack of a reaction to the blood now staining Eddie's hand, his fingers grazing over the wound, his eyes wide in slight fright as he peered into the hole in Richie's arm. "God, let me fix this just this once."

"Or we could just... bandage it up for now." Richie tried. Eddie hissed, shaking his head. "That's _stupid_, shut up."

"Eddie-"

"_Richie_."

Richie fell silent, still continuing with his somewhat meek attempts to get Eddie to leave it alone. It took a moment of Richie trying to avoid Eddie's stern gaze, before he let his arms drop, flaccid at his sides.

Eddie nodded, satisfied, and held his hand over Richie's wound. Again, Richie went to grab onto Eddie's wrist, lips pressed together and brows screwed up. "Just- _try_ not to let it get stuck there?" He asked of him, and Eddie was quick to agree, nodding. "Yeah, what kind of friend would I be if I purposely left a bullet in your arm?" He laughed. Richie kept quiet, and when Eddie tried to meet his eyes, Richie turned his head, looking off to the side.

Eddie sighed, attention focused on the wound now. Richie sealed his eyes shut, shuddering when he felt something... _regrowing_ in his bullet wound. He paused when it stopped, looking back down at his arm as Eddie moved his hand, looking just as confused as Richie. When he removed his hand, they both stared down at the bullet still in Richie's arm, half of it sticking out. Richie gagged, recoiling. "_Ew_, that's disgusting!" He cried, voice bordering on shrill. Eddie snorted, and grabbed the end of the bullet, towing it from his wound. He let it drop to the ground, wiping his hand on Richie's shirt, not looking as disgusted as Richie thought he would be.

"That good enough for you?" Eddie asked him, smile lacking any trace of contempt or mockery. Richie looked down at his arm, fingers tapping where a new scar was, and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that..." He cleared his throat. "Let's just... go."

And so they did. There was a fair amount of guards and other kids they had inevitably run into, and most of the time, they had resorted to hiding around corners. Neither of them possessed any particularly strong offense powers, it was probably the safest option, really. It wasn't long before they rounded a corner, slamming right into another kid. A girl.

She whirled around, gasping quietly as Eddie fell back and onto the ground, the back of his head bopping into Richie's shins as he followed behind Eddie. The girl held a hand out to Eddie, frowning apologetically. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" She asked, hurriedly, like she was worried someone would jump out of a wall and take her away if she did anything too slowly.

Eddie hesitated, but took her hand, grunting as she hoisted him to his feet. He hummed in affirmation, and she smiled at the two, a hand to her chest. "I'm Veronica. You two are... really far away from the exit." She informed them. Richie groaned behind Eddie, and the smaller boy turned to glare at him. Richie covered his mouth, corners of his lips peeking out from behind his hand as he grinned, and Eddie looked back to Veronica. "How do you know?"

"I'm a teleporter." She said helpfully. "I'm- I'm trying to help people get out, I didn't really expect to find anyone all the way over here... Did you see anyone else?" She asked. 

Nodding, Eddie waved a hand off to the side. "Uh- yeah, we've been running into a few people." He told her. Richie took a step forward, a hand on Eddie's shoulder as he pulled him back, taking his place in the conversation. "Yeah, that's nice, listen. Veronica, you said you're a teleporter?" He asked, and she nodded. He opened his mouth to say more, but she shushed him before he had the chance. "I know what you're gonna say, and that's what I'm here for. Take my.. hands." She ordered. Richie didn't wait, clasping his hand in hers and looking back at Eddie, following Veronica's gaze.

Eddie was rubbing his arm, examining the Beta symbol on Veronica's wrist. He wouldn't have thought a simple teleporter could've landed in _Beta_... It sounded more like a Delta or an Omega power. Was she lying? Was she hiding something? Or was she just... really strong? He didn't know. He didn't know anything about her. What if-

"_Eduardo_, andale, let's _go_." Richie said, snapping his fingers, tearing Eddie from his thoughts. He looked over at Veronica, brow raised. "Is it safe?"

"Perfectly." She nodded. Eddie let out a defeated breath, taking Veronica's hand, and panicked when his vision was immediately engulfed in darkness.

* * *

Bill, Stan and Beverly practically bursted out the doors to the facility, eyes wide as the sirens suddenly got ten times louder. There were waves of kids as far as the eye could see, all running towards the chain link fence surrounding the facility. There were no guards yet- at least, no _living_ guards, but the kids were panicking, unsure of how to get through the fence. Some were trying to climb it, but fell back to the ground after getting electrocuted. Some telekinesis users were trying to break down the fence, but they were all focused on different sections rather than one. It would take forever before any of them busted down the fence.

There was snow settling on the ground, which, as pretty as it was, wasn't helpful to all the kids running around, trying to be as quick as they could be. Beverly opened her mouth to say something, presumably to suggest they help with breaking open the fence, when more doors on the sides of the building busted open, guards flooding out into the fields in large batches.

Whatever Beverly was going to say was quickly scrapped, and Stan spoke instead. "We need to hurry." He said, and Beverly rolled her eyes, like, _obviously_. Surprisingly, Bill spoke next, taking a step forwards. "Come on, th-they're getting nowhere s-s-separately. I... I have an idea."

Beverly and Stan shared a look, and Beverly gestured for him to go on. "Go for it."

Apparently, that was all Bill needed. He turned around again, breath hitching as he watched the guards nearing all the kids. "H-h-help who you ca-_ahhn_-" He tried, huffing and rubbing his throat. "I'll help with the escape. Okay?"

In spite of the fact that Beverly and Stan had known this boy for less than an hour, they both nodded. He kind of radiated confidence, in a way, and the determined look in his eyes made it hard to disagree with what he said. Like he held some kind of rope over them. Best not to think about it too hard, Stanley thought. He looked over at Beverly, soft smile crossing his features. "We'll rendezvous after Bill opens up the gate, right?"

Beverly nodded, a familiar fire in her eyes. Quite literally, he supposed. She furrowed her brows, turning to the side and running off, with Stanley turning to do the same in the other direction. 

They stayed that way for a while. It was a mess. Beverly had ended up jumping onto the back of a guard with his gun aimed at a child that could've been no older than nine, her hands slapped over his eyes, blinding him. Her palms heated up, flames erupting from them, and she leapt off of his back. She spun around, hearing footsteps behind her, a ring of fire suddenly spiraling towards another guard. She turned her head to look over at Stan, worry quickly engulfing her.

Stan was doing his best. He hesitated, before tackling a guard. Not the best decision, considering that guard was apart of a group, and he was quickly surrounded. Panic overwhelmed him, only growing when a few guards grabbed onto his limbs. He cried out in alarm, when a sudden green gas emitted from his body, and some of the guards stepped back. They were quick to recover from their surprise, but Stan was already on his feet, jumping through a gap in the circle of guards. One of them grabbed onto his shoulder, and he spun around, sticking a hand in their face. Their mouth was open as he stuck his hand under their mask, green gas creeping into their lungs. They began to cough violently, stumbling back, and Stan ran in the opposite direction where most of the kids were huddled, leading the guards away.

Stanley was quickly cornered by the guards, and he turned to face them. His foot dug deeper into the snow than he would've liked, getting stuck, and he fell back, scrambling to get away from them, to no avail. One of the guards stepped into the front, lifting their gun, aimed right at Stan, when one of the guards in the back screamed.

Heads turned to the back, and a guard fell to the guard, a red substance leaking from their head. One of the guards had their gun aimed where the now dead one previously stood, and the rest of them watched as he lifted his gun to the bottom of his head.

Stanley winced, tearing his eyes away when a gunshot rang out. He watched, eyes wide as the rest of the guards all followed suit. His hands flew to cover his ears, trying to block out the sounds of the guns, and the bodies flopping into the snow, white snow now stained with red. Stan lifted his head, tears blurring his vision, but being able to see enough that he spotted some coke bottle glasses, and wide eyes staring at him.

Stan uttered out a '_thank you_', and the boy seemed to smile. A shorter grabbed him by the arm, tugging him away and pointing. As they ran off, Stan followed their gaze, feeling his breath get caught in his throat.

Bill had, miraculously, blown a gaping hole in the fence, to the point where it didn't even look like there was ever a fence there. Guards and kids all ran to escape, and Stan blinked when a shadow was casted over him. He looked up, and saw Beverly smiling at him. She helped him to his feet, wrapping her arms around him hurriedly. He returned the gesture as quick as he could, and she pulled back, hands cupping his face, flicking his curls from her face. "Stan, sweetie, are you okay? Did they hurt you?" She asked, and Stan shook his head, moving his hand to wipe his eyes. "No, no. Did they hurt you?" He asked, and she laughed quietly, shaking her head. "I'm fine. You were amazing!"

"I didn't _feel_ amazing..." He mumbled, his head lowering. Beverly moved her hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at her. "Hey, you did great. You saved a bunch of kids by leading those guards away. You're amazing, okay?" She assured him. Stan couldn't help but find himself finding the truth in her words, and smiled at her. She grabbed his hand, throwing a thumb over her shoulder. "Come on, it won't be long before more guards try get us back." She said, and began to lead him to what used to be the fence.

Everything seemed to be going in slow motion at that moment. Bill was waiting by the fence, his eyes flickering with recognition when he spotted them, waving a hand. They ran to him, all of them smiling, and maybe a few tears were shed, but none of them would admit that. Then, the yells of kids grew deeper, when suddenly it processed that the guards were already there. They were shooting people. They were grabbing onto kids. They were getting dangerously close.

Beverly managed to catch the eye on one of the kids. He had been grabbed by a guard, and thrown into the snow, being trampled by other frantic kids trying to escape, crying as they stomped on his curled up body. She slapped both boys on the back, ordering them to go on. Stan blinked, grabbing onto her arm before she had the chance to run off. She was quick to rest her hand on his, smiling at him. "It's okay, I'll be fine. I'll catch up, promise!"

She didn't wait for a response, launching herself off to the side. She bobbed down as she ran, crashing into the back of a guard's legs. They flew over her, flopping onto the snow behind her, and she grabbed onto the boy's shoulders. He stared up at her with wide, scared eyes, and she smiled, bringing him to his feet. "Hey, hey- it's okay, I'm here to help-"

Another gunshot rang out. Well, there was a lot of gunshots, but this one was distinct. Because it was quickly followed up by a sharp pain in Beverly's stomach. She sputtered, and hunched over, hands clutching her gut, a wet substance leaking from her new wound. The boy in front of her yelled in alarm, and she could hear her friends crying out to her in the distance. She looked up at the boy, surprised by the sudden sternness in his eyes. He looked up at Stan and Bill as they rushed over, and the boy lowered himself, sweeping Beverly off of her feet- quite literally. She stared up at him, brows stitched together in slight annoyance. _She_ was supposed to be helping_ him_, not the other way around. 

The noise around her all began to merge together, sounding more like a white noise rather than anything at all coherent. Her vision blurred, and she sniffed, the pain searing through her body being all that she could register.

And with that, she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I love cliffhangers :))  
And, in case you're confused, yes that boy at the end is Mike and not Ben. Ben comes in soon though, don't worry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill, Stan, Bev and their stowaway find a place to crash.

Stan was quick to run over to Beverly, his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He cupped her face with his hands, shaking her head gently, not even aware of what he was saying himself. All he knew was that he was crying. His eyes lifted to the boy carrying Beverly, who was staring at Stan. His lips moved- he was saying something, but Stan couldn't hear him. His body was warming up, a stark difference to the snow surrounding them.

The boy moved the hand keeping Beverly's legs upright so it rested on Stan's shoulder, and Stan froze up under the contact. His gaze shifted between the boy's hand and his face, suddenly unsure of what to do. The boy radiated a similar confidence to Bill, only much more dormant. There was something grounding about his stringent expression that managed to conciliate Stan, and he moved away from the boy's reach, the deafening thumping in his ears drowning out, being replaced by sirens.

Bill nudged Stan gently, and his head whirled around, staring over at him. "W-w-we don't have t-time to stay here." He insisted, taking a step back and gesturing to the missing fence. "W-we have to g-g-_go_."

Stan looked back at Beverly, then at the boy, his brows furrowed. "I-I can't carry her." He mumbled. In all honesty, he probably could for a little while, but not long enough to get as far from here as they could. Humans were heavy, and Stan was... a bit of a twig. The boy seemed to get the idea, however, and he nodded, clutching Beverly's unconscious body. Stan spun on his heels to look at Bill, who looked on with mild confusion. 

"We have a stowaway!" Stan called out, and Bill gave him a look. Stan's cheeks flushed for a moment, but was quick to follow when the boy ran past him. He ran behind the two- three?- and dared to look behind them. The guards were still racing out, but they weren't coming out the gates, instead focusing on their wounded or dead comrades and the few kids that had refused or hadn't managed to leave.

His eyes met with one of the kids still within the fence, and he hesitated. They had tears ghosting their cheeks, and big puffy eyes. Something tugged at his gut, and he made a quiet promise to come back and help any remaining kids one day. But not today. Not now.

"So," Beverly muttered, and everyone turned their heads towards her, eyes wide. She was smiling, awkwardly looking off to the side. "Did we make it to a 7-eleven?"

They had all settled in a small clearing in the forest surrounding the facility. It looked to be an old camping sight. None of them knew how to help Beverly, and instead settled for stopping the bleeding with what little they had.

Stan was the first to react to Beverly's sudden consciousness. He launched himself from the turned over log he sat on, hurrying over to her and holding a hand over her stomach, gently as to not give her much pain. He held his hand firmly still, trying to keep her laying down, a grin breaking out over his face. "_Shit_, are you okay? Don't move around too much, your wound isn't closed or bandaged." He told her. She eyed him curiously, and his cheeks went red. "We... didn't have much."

Beverly looked around, her eyes landing on the boy. Her eyes widened, and she moved to sit up, wincing when Stans hand pressed into her wound. He mumbled a pile of apologies as she laid back down. Her eyes were still on the boy, the smallest of smiles over her lips, as per usual. "It- it's _you_."

"Hi." He waved, managing a soft grin. He had moved closer, and stood behind Stan, emanating a sudden nervous energy. He bobbed down so she didn't have to strain her neck, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm Mike. You're Beverly, right? They- well, Stan has been talking about you." He said, chuckling under his breath. Stan glared at him, glarefully, huffing quietly as Beverly laughed. Her laugh quickly evolved into light coughing, and covered her mouth, groaning. "I hope they haven't scared you too much." She hummed.

Mike shook his head gently, waving a hand dismissively. "No, no, they've been nice." He told her. She nodded, satisfied. Mike let out a breath, fiddling with the end of his shirt. "I... I appreciate it a lot, really, but you shouldn't have done that. You got _shot_ for trying to help me." He frowned, and Beverly lifted a hand. She moved to cover his mouth, but her aim was a little uncoordinated, and she instead ended up lightly tapping his cheek. It still got him to shut up, nonetheless. "Don't say that, okay? I wanted to help you, and I don't regret it. No use if you just keep feeling bad about it." She advised quietly, resting her hands over her stomach, hands set gently on top of Stan's.

Mike kept quiet, and Stan turned to look at him. He held in a breath, and turned his head to look at Bill. "Bill, can you... keep her awake? Me and Mike are gonna go look for somewhere to stay." He said. He heard Mike sputter beside him, shuffling around. "We are?"

"Yeah, we are." Stan confirmed. He looked up at Bill with wide, round eyes, and Bill nodded slowly. "Y-y-yeah, be s-safe." He requested. Stan smiled at him, and moved his hand carefully from under Beverly's. She kept her hands hovering for a moment so they didn't simply flop onto her wound, gently resting her hands soon after. Bill neared Beverly, sitting down on the log next to her, and Stan stared down at his hand, brows furrowed. He rose up to his feet, and Mike followed suit. The two of them headed into the forest, Stan keeping his eyes on his feet. 

"So, Mike, huh?" Stan tried. Mike chuckled quietly, his hands clenching into fists and unclenching again. He repeated this motion a few times before verbally speaking. "Uh- yeah. That's me..." He trailed off. Stan's eyes were drawn to the glowing Beta symbol etched on his wrist, emitting a light yellow glow. He looked down at his own Omega-Delta symbol, glowing blue when Omega, and then green when Delta. The glow was less vibrant than it would've been in the facility, but still bright enough.

Mike's voice got Stanley to flinch, staring over at Mike. "So you're a transfer?" He asked. Mike wore a soft smile, and Stan found himself mirroring his expression. "Yeah. It was... weird." He sighed, shaking his head. Mike tilted his head, concern in his eyes, despite still smiling. "Was it... a bad weird?"

Stan didn't respond. He settled for covering the symbol on his wrist, and Mike dropped the topic rather quickly. Stan looked over at him, a hand on his hip. "What do you do then, Mike?" He questioned, inwardly cringing at the awkwardness engulfing the two of them. Mike smiled at him again, but it no longer reached his eyes. "Oh, I'm a shapeshifter." He told him. Mike lifted a hand, and Stan stared as his hand seemed to change form. First it got notably larger, bigger than Mike's head, then to what looked to be an axe of sorts, then back to a regular hand. 

Stan let out a quiet _woah_, and Mike chuckled quietly. He brought his hand back, holding it close to his chest. "Pretty cool, huh?" He asked. Stan nodded, grinning at Mike, and the two fell back into a silence. The air between them was still tense, both of them seeming uncomfortable in the silence, until Mike quietly gasped.

Stan followed his gaze, and his jaw hung open. They had stumbled upon a small cliff, small enough to slide down with little trouble, but big enough to probably give you a concussion if you fell down unintentionally. There was a convenient store in their view, and mountains in the distance, the sun only just beginning to disappear behind them. The sun coloured the sky different colours, radiating a bright yellow that contrasted with the darkening blue sky. Purple and pink hues was scattered above them, small stars poking out into the dusk sky.

Stan sniffed, lowering his head to look at his feet and rubbing his eyes. Fresh tears surfaced, streaming down his cheeks, his body beginning to tremble. Mike rested a hand on his back, unsure of what else to do, and Stan leaned to the side, closer to Mike. Mike wrapped an arm around Stan, slow enough so Stan could pull back if he was uncomfortable with the contact. Stan lifted his head again, cheeks dusted with a vibrant red, curls sticking to his wet cheeks. He pressed a hand to Mike's chest, gently pushing him back, and Mike took a step away. Stan regained his composure, taking in a breath, gazing at the sunset with a softened expression. "Sorry, sorry, I just... haven't seen the sunset in years."

"Years..?" Mike choked out. Stan blinked, and cleared his throat, shaking his head. "I..." He started. Looking over at Mike, the boy smiled, seeming to understand what he was trying to say. He seemed pretty good at that.

He turned around, gesturing for Stan to follow. "Come on, we should get the others and drop by that convenient store."

Yet again, a silence hung in the air between them, and while it was still mildly uncomfortable, it no longer felt like there was a requirement to fill the silence with even more awkward conversations. They waded past trees, following the same path they had taken to get to the cliff. Surprisingly enough, they didn't get lost. Nor did they get jumped by an axe-murderer.

When they got back, Beverly was sitting up, Bill sat next to her, the two of them mumbling something incomprehensible. The both of them looked over to Mike and Stan, and Beverly grinned. She waved them over, going to stand up, but stopping when Stan suddenly leapt over to her, hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her back down. "Hey, hey- careful, are you sure you're okay?"

"Jeez, lighten up, Stanley. I'm fine." She scoffed, not without affection. She eyed him with wide eyes, a hopeful smile over her face. "You guys find anything?" She asked, and Stan looked over at Mike for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, we did. There's a convenient store not too far from here, can you walk the distance?" He asked her, brows furrowed. Beverly stared up at him, eyebrow raised, and Stan cleared his throat, nodding. "Right, of course you can. Dumb question."

Stan took her hands, wincing at the sound of blood splatting against his palms. He pulled her onto her feet, and Bill followed suit. Bill looked over at Stan, nodding his head in the direction Stan and Mike had come from. "L-lead the way, y-y-you two."

The four of them wandered through the woods, Stan constantly turning to look over at Beverly. It wasn't like he was very subtle about it, as she met his gaze any time he turned his head, huffing in mild annoyance. Stan would always look forwards again, cheeks growing a bright red, and would quickly calm down and repeat the motion. Beverly gradually started to slow down the longer they walked, and Stan rested a hand on her shoulder, frowning. She looked over at him, and smiled, patting his back and walking onwards, ignoring her mild limp. Stan was clearly displeased, but didn't say anything.

Eventually, they reached the end of the woods, the convenient store on the other side of the road. Mike grinned, looking back at them, his eyes sparkling. "There it is! Come on, let's- woah," He cut himself off, eyes widening as he stared at Beverly. "Are you okay?"

The three boys all looked at Beverly, and Stan gasped quietly. He hadn't noticed in the darkened woods, but he could see clearer now. Beverly's face had paled, and she had her arms wrapped around her blood soaked stomach. Her cheeks almost seemed more sunken now, and she lifted her head, slowly and tiredly. The corners of her lips upturned, and she opened her mouth to say something, but never got to it. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell forwards. Mike, Bill and Stan all held their arms out, catching her and crying out her name, gently shaking her.

Bill spoke first, voice trembling with panic, stutter worsening. "W-w-w-we h-ha-_aah_ve to get to the s- th-the s-_ssss_..." He tried, smacking her own head in frustration. "C-c-come o-on." He barked out. Mike picked her up again, bridal style, holding her carefully, and the three boys all raced over to the store.

When they bursted in, the glass door smacked against the wall as it swung open all too suddenly. There was a boy behind the counter, and he stared, wide-eyed behind his glasses as Bill, Mike and Stan all hurried over to him. Bill was in front, hands slamming against the counter. "D-d-d-do you h-have any b-b- ba-ban-" He stuttered. The boy behind the counter leaned back, staring at Beverly as Bill stuttered. He looked back at Bill, trying for a smile. "B-bandages?"

Bill stopped trying to say the word, and nodded, almost frantically. The boy laughed nervously, looking out the window and back at Bill. "A-are you sure you don't want me to call the ambulance-?" He asked, hand lowering to reach for the phone.

Stan panicked inwardly, and stepped forwards. "NO!"

Bill, Mike and the boy all turned to look at him, and he cleared his throat, feeling his blood rush to his face. "I-...sorry, but I don't think that's a good idea." He insisted. The boy stared at him with a weird look, looking back down at Beverly. "Are you sure? That looks like it hurts."

"_Please_, just- _please_ tell me you can treat a bullet wound?" He asked, voice bordering on that of a beggars. The boy frowned, and groaned quietly, but nodded. "Yeah, yeah I do." He sighed. He seemed much calmer than he had been a few seconds ago, all tension leaving his body. He gestured for them to follow as he walked out from behind the counter. "Come to the back, I'll get in huge trouble if anyone sees this." He said. As they walked through aisles, the boy grabbed onto bandages and cleaning wipes and walked through a door. He flicked on the light, and there was another boy.

"Dominic, I need you to cover my shift, we have a..." He trailed off, looking back at Beverly. "...a bit of a problem." He coughed. Dominic blinked, clearly surprised but didn't argue. He stood up and rushed over, brows furrowed. "Is she-?"

"_Dominic_." Counter boy said again. Dominic huffed, and smacked Counter boy's chest. "You owe me for this, Billie." He hissed, and walked out. Billie led them over to a table, and Mike set Beverly down. The three boys stayed close, but Billie extended his arm to the side, gently pushing them back. "Hate to be the one to say it, but you should probably give us some space."

The boys all shared a look, and took one step back. Billie scoffed, rolling his eyes, and looked back down at Beverly. Mike leaned over to watch, and Billie lifted her shirt ever so slightly to see the wound. All of the boys winced at the sight, and Billie gently lifted her to look at the exit wound on her back. He set her back down again, whistling quietly and taking the wipes. He used a few to wipe away the still fresh blood, frowning at the new knowledge that most of it was now dried. He pressed a fair amount of other wipes against the wound, and Beverly groaned quietly. Stan took a step forwards, frowning. "You're hurting her-"

Billie shushed him, keeping the cloth pressed directly onto the wound. He kept a hand over the wipes to keep it air-tight, and pressed two fingers to her neck, checking her heart rate and breathing. He mumbled something under his breath, and finally, took the bandages. He bandaged up her stomach, and lowered her shirt. Billie turned around, grabbing onto a jacket placed over a chair and awkwardly put it on Beverly. He looked back over at the boys, brows stitches together. "So... what're your names?"

"Bill." Bill said simply. Billie chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hah- cool name." He said, and cleared his throat. Bill managed to smile, and pointed at Mike. "This is Mike, Stan, and that's Beverly." He introduced them. Billie nodded quietly, puffing out his cheeks.

A sudden smile appeared over Billie's face as he eyed their wrists. "Hey, sick tattoos-!" He grinned, reaching over to grab onto Mike's wrist. He lifted it up, his hold on their arms surprisingly soft and gentle, a veritable difference to when the guard's would grab onto them in the facility. Mike shook his head gently, clearing his mind from that, and looked back at Billie. He was staring at the symbol with great curiosity, eyes wide. "That's so cool! You guys look my age, though, how'd your parents let you get these? And how are they _glowing_?"

Mike laughed nervously, gently tugging his wrist back. Billie loosened his grip on them, and Mike let his arm drop back to his side. "Don't wanna talk about it?" He asked, and Mike nodded. Billie, surprisingly enough, dropped the topic. He had a strained look, staring over at Beverly, tapping his foot.

The four of them all stood there for a while, an awkward tension growing in the room. Billie finally sighed, and offered a smile. "Listen... I get it's gotten real dark, and this is a 24-hour shop, and your friend is... like that." He trailed off, gesturing weakly to Beverly on the table. "But, you guys can't stay here long. My boss'll have my head if I let you guys stay here." He sighed.

The three all stared at Billie, all wearing similar expressions of either sudden disheartenment or saddened surprise. "_What_?" They all asked, and Billie cringed. "Look, I'm sorry, it's not my choice!" He insisted.

"But look at her! She needs _rest_, who knows where the nearest building to here is! We can't stay out in the cold all night, either!" Stan exclaimed, waving his arms to emphasize his mild anger. Billie hummed quietly, tugging gently at his shirt. "L-look, I-" 

"_Please_." Stan tried again. Billie huffed, and looked away again, and shook his head. "God, _fine_. Just tonight, though, okay? You're lucky me n' Dom got stuck with the night shift." He scoffed, shaking his head. He looked over at Mike, nodding in Beverly's direction. "Come on, pick 'er up, there's a bed here somewhere." He told them. They all stared at him for a moment, and Billie's face went red. "Okay, _sometimes_ people here sleep on the job, shut up and bring her over." He hissed. Mike chuckled quietly, and moved to pick Beverly up. The three (four?) of them followed Billie to the corner of the room, and, sure enough, there was a mattress, set vertical against the wall. He pulled it back, and the mattress flopped to the ground. Mike set Beverly down, and Billie looked at them, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "I'll go get you guys some pillows and blankets. Get...comfortable." He tried. 

Waving, Billie left the room, and when he came back later with the pillows and blankets, he seemed on edge. None of them got to question it, though, and he hurried out of the room soon after. 

Bill curled up on the ground with two pillows, drowning in a pillow. Mike was sitting with a pillow next to them, and he fluffed it out, eyeing Stan. Stanley was curled up with three pillows, shivering even under his duvet. Mike chuckled quietly, fiddling with his faux fur blanket. "They have.. a lot of fancy blankets for people who only _sometimes_ sleep on the job."

Stan chuckled quietly, nodding in agreement. "Yeah..." He mumbled. He was quick to change the topic, eyes focusing on the intermediate space in front of him. "Hey... Billie said we can't stay here after tonight, and it's nice of him to let us stay when he isn't supposed to and all, but..." He paused, thinking of how to carry on. "Where are we gonna go tomorrow? We don't even know if there's any buildings anywhere near here..." He frowned. 

Mike kept quiet, and when Stan looked over at him, was surprised to find the soft look against Mike's face, smiling as he looked up at the ceiling. "I think," He hummed, laying down and locking his hands behind his pillow as he rested his head against it. "That's a worry for tomorrow. For now, let's just... enjoy this. You agree?"

Stan blinked. It took him a moment to get what Mike meant, but soon enough, he caught on. They were out. They were _free_. They may have no idea where they were, and even less of an idea of where they would go after this, but... that didn't change the fact they could do anything now. Go anywhere. See what they wanted. Make friends, help people, explore the _world_. 

They could find their families.

Stan smiled, and nodded slowly, eyelids growing heavy and sliding shut.

"Yeah. Yeah, I agree."

**Author's Note:**

> Alpha class - Highest class. Most dangerous powers, usually aggressive or violent. Give off extreme and wide-range signals when powers are first used. Killed on sight if not captured.
> 
> Beta class - Second highest class. Powers used for offense, usually obedient unless provoked. Give off powerful but relatively tame signals when powers are first used. Captured on sight.
> 
> Delta class - Lowest offense class. Powers are generally harmless unless used certain ways, usually quiet and compliant. Give off mediocre signals when powers are first used depending on how they are used. Captured on sight.
> 
> Omega class - Support class. Powers are, as said prior, used for support rather than direct combat, no distinct personality traits. Give off stronger signals than Delta when powers are first used. Killed eventually if not captured.


End file.
